THE END IS NIGH
Leaving the Puck Building Friday at 6ish, I spot THIS possible Sign of the Apocalypse. How devious of BeelzeTrump & the CorcoDevil to hold their little "Event" in the impish Puck at the same time as the highly publicized Outsider Art Fair. 'Nah copyranter,' I think, 'you're overreacting. It's probably just an innocent little dinner party.'
Cut to four hours later: I'm back in the neighborhood and I glance up at the Puck's 7th floor Skylight Ballroom, the location of the "Event."
HOLY. BABY. JESUS. (click image, if you dare.)
This Monday morning, I walked through the empty ballroom. I sniffed the air for incense. Nothing. Not one drop of baby's blood on the wooden floor, either. I ask two building maintenance guys about Friday night. They know nothing.
Then I remember this is the year of 06/06/06.
(To my non-NYC readers, sorry. But, this is some BIG EVIL, believe me.)